


Hungry

by xmjcx



Series: Bethyl Smut Week [7]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alexandria Safe Zone, Bethyl Smut Week, F/M, ZA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 23:04:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5720353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmjcx/pseuds/xmjcx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bethyl Smut Week, Day Seven; 'Hungry'. Set in the Alexandria Safe Zone, Beth and Daryl's first time together - which is anything but smooth and is everything awkward - and their time together now, which is much improved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry

It started out slow; this burning desire for her that he has. Initially, it was something that was barely even there within him - or at least it was something that he hardly recognised, something that he didn't actually need to acknowledge or really accept. Over time, though, it progressed - which might have been inevitable, given the fact that the two of them got out of the prison together, alone, and taking it to account that it was just them for what felt as though it could have easily been years - and all that Daryl really had to keep him sane was the knowledge that at the beginning, he never did intend for any of this to happen.

Not when she was barely just eighteen, and when he was easily over twice her age. Not when her daddy had just been murdered before their very eyes, not when they had just lost everything - not just their shelter, but their home, their family. The people that they loved and all that went with it.

It had been like the farm all over again, only with the prison, it had somehow been even worse.

Now, though, this desire and want and genuine need for her just won't seem to leave him be; and Daryl thinks to himself that he is honest to god hungry for her by this point. It's impossible to do much of anything at all when Beth is on his mind in this way all of the god-damned time; impossible for him to kill any livestock to bring back for meals when his thoughts constantly drift to her, impossible for him to properly work on the engine of a bike or a car when he can't stop daydreaming about her and the conversation that they had the day before and how it could have gone so differently if he actually opened his damned mouth for once, impossible for him to even have a normal conversation with anyone around him when all that he can think about is where she is or what she's doing or who she's with.

Yeah. These obsessive thoughts of Beth are probably becoming a bit of a problem, but Daryl thinks that it might actually be a little bit understandable and not as completely weird as it all seems. The panic that he feels when she's not around him - well, he figures to himself that it's because of what happened back at the funeral home.

The way that she was taken from him, the way that someone had trapped them, had planned to steal her away; it's tormented him for months now. And the not knowing what had happened to her, where she was - that was somehow even worse than the act of her being taken away.

But she's back, now; safe with them, whole.

(That doesn't mean that Daryl doesn't still panic, though.)

The overwhelming desire that Daryl has for this girl is never actually completely put out; not even when he finds his release at the thought of her; not even when he has tugged on his dick so hard and so fast and the image of her in his head has been so real that he's released enough of himself to fill up a coffee mug. It's hard to even be bitter about it when she smiles at him so sweetly and she talks to him so softly, and even after everything that has happened to her, after everything that she has been through with the lot of them, she still seems so fucking bright and happy.

Sometimes, Daryl can't help but wonder over whether he's going to spend the rest of his days feeling like this - like he needs to be with her over anything else, like he can't really cope with anything else until he is with her - and then sometimes, he thinks to himself that he probably couldn't give a shit whether that was the case.

Ain't like it can be that much of a bad thing, living this way. Not really. Not when he's happy, not when he's not actually hurting anyone, not when she's alive and she's breathing and she's smiling. Beth might not have a clue what's going on in his head every day and every night, but still, they're both happy and Daryl refuses to be responsible for ruining that.

Not when she was taken from him the way that she was. Not when he's only just really got her back.

Not when she still sings.

 

It is honest to god beyond him how the two of them manage to come together that very first time. It's something that he should probably treasure in his memory, something that he should really worship and remember each and every detail of, but in all honesty, Daryl doesn't remember much about it at all.

It's been building for a while, this thing between the two of them - building after idunno and oh and a car with a cross and a night full of sprinting and chasing and then, weeks and weeks later, a rescue mission at a hospital - and Daryl supposed that after all of that, it made sense that it was Beth who came to him that very first time. After all, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Daryl didn't have a clue what he was doing with any members of the opposite sex, especially not her, so it wasn't a surprise - at least not to him - that she basically had to throw herself into his lap for him to actually do something about the obvious sexual tension between the pair of them.

There are things that Daryl does remember about that night, though, despite the fact that none of it really stands out clearly. The first bits of it all are easy enough to remember - the creak of his bedroom door being pushed open, the light that seeped through as Beth tiptoed her way in. What she was wearing that night, he doesn't remember at all; but he thinks that his lack of recollection in regards to her clothes might have something to do with the quick way in which she was out of them.

It was completely silent between the two of them as she nudged the door shut and made her way to the foot of his bed. The curtains were open - he had developed a habit of constantly leaving them open, just in case - and with the help of the moonlight, Daryl was able to make out quite a lot of her as she stood staring at him with her wide blue eyes. Whether or not either of them said anything in the minutes that past from then on is something that Daryl doesn't remember, but he sure as hell won't forget the sight of Beth Greene stripping herself before him.

Her sudden nakedness had surprised him, though; the way in which she could be so bold and confident - which wasn't true, because he had noticed that her hands were trembling as they struggled to pull her top over her head - around him when he could barely even string a sentence together whenever he looked at her. The whole time that it had taken her to undress, Daryl had just gaped at her, and then when it came for her to fumble with the buckle of his belt, he hadn't done much to aide her.

It was most likely a combination of the shock and the excitement and the confusion, Daryl thinks, that had him completely frozen. He did help her somewhat - after all, he had raised his hips enough so that she could pull down both his jeans and his boxers at once - but he hadn't really done much else other than that. No calloused hands dared to inch closer to her to wander over the skin that he just knew would feel so smooth underneath his fingertips, no teasing of her hard, pink nipples or of the lips of her pussy -

Hell, now that he actually thinks on about that night, Daryl is pretty sure that he didn't even fucking kiss her.

But she didn't kiss him, either; and if she would have done, then he thinks that he might have responded. That it might have spurred him on a bit, that it might have assisted his mood, that it might have encouraged him to do something other than sit there and watch her work herself and work him.

Beth never kissed him, though, and she never gave him that permission to do anything at all. So all that Daryl did was sit, and all that he did was watch.

She wasn't really that wet - not that he can blame her, since it wasn't as though he had actually done anything to fucking excite her - and Daryl definitely can recall the way in which she licked her fingers as she straddled his waist, her pussy hovering over his semi-hard cock. It was brutal watching her suck away at her hands so that her pale, dainty fingers became moist with her spit; and then, once she was satisfied that they were drenched enough, she moved her hand down and rubbed it all over the swollen head of his hardening dick.

Daryl wasn't stupid, and it was clear what Beth's intentions were: to use the foamy liquid from her tongue as a substitute for lubricant so that he could slide inside her much easier than he would have done without it.

(There was no condom that first time, either, but as Beth gripped at the tense muscles of his shoulders with her fingernails and sunk her tight heat down onto his cock, Daryl didn't find himself thinking much about anything at all; especially not protection, of all things).

One thing that Daryl will admit - to both himself and to her - is that he was pretty damned useless that first time that they came together. He can remember the way that it felt to finally be inside of her; after imagining it for as long as he had done, how amazing it felt to be buried inside of her. And god, she was so tight and so hot and to finally be able to see her bouncing on his dick instead of just thinking about what she might look like...

The sound of her whimpers as she pleasured herself as she rode his cock was something that he could distinctively remember, too, but Daryl isn't sure if he can remember those sounds because he stored them in his mind or whether it's because he hears them often enough now. It was Beth's own fingers circling her dripping, swollen clit that brought her to an orgasm that time; not his own motionless ones which were balled into tight fists by both of his sides.

Everything else, really, is a blur; something that he can't quite put his finger on, something that he doesn't really want to admit that he has forgotten.

More than likely, Daryl doesn't remember much of it because he doesn't want to; and he doesn't want to because he knows that he was shit to her. Had Beth not busied her fingers by playing with her clit then he knows that there wouldn't have been a chance in hell that she would have came around him; and it was practically as soon as her tight walls began to clench and grip around and at his cock that Daryl knew he was gone.

He might have been jerking himself off to the thought of her - the thought of something like this, only just not quite that way - every damned night, but it had been so long since he had actually been inside of anyone, and then there was the fact that he was now buried inside of _Beth_...

When he came, it was very shortly after her own release; and he spurted himself inside of her without any thought of pulling himself out even crossing his mind, reckless or not. As he filled her up to the hilt, her name did fall from his lips in a half-whisper, half-cry; but Beth didn't respond to it - verbally or physically - and in all honesty, she barely even acknowledged the sound of it.

It took a minute or two for the pair of them to calm down; for their chests to stop heaving and their breathing to slow down and their eyes to open, but when they eventually did, Beth wasted no time in rolling herself away from his body. There was an inkling of instinct in that moment for his body to chase hers, for his arms to wrap around her middle and to tug her closer towards him as she collapsed into a heap in the middle of his bed, but Daryl didn't act upon it. Instead, he left her to lie by herself for a few minutes; his thick cum silently leaking from inside of her, trickling down both of her thighs.

That first time had been more than just slightly embarrassing on his part, really; and it had definitely not been anything to brag about whatsoever. Not when Beth had scrambled herself from his bed and left the room just as quickly as she had entered it, not when she had left her pyjamas and her panties strewn across his floor as she hurried - still completely naked with his cum dripping down her thighs - to her own bedroom down the hall.

 _God_ , he was an asshole, and he knew it more than anyone.

And then for days, Daryl couldn't find the strength within him to go to Beth in the way that she had so bravely gone to him that night. There was a lot for them to talk about - so much that she needed to know from his side, so much that he just had to tell her - but it was difficult when he knew that she sure as hell did not want to see him right now.

Beth had been avoiding him since that night; and it wasn't as though he could blame her, really, but the reality of it still stung him pretty bad. And as much as he wanted her company - as much as he fucking missed being around her more than anything or anyone else - he just wasn't that brave.

And Daryl wasn't sure whether or not he would ever be, either.

 

"I'm sorry."

Daryl almost jumped at the sound of Beth's soft voice floating into his ears from where she stood behind him, and although the hunter didn't actually turn around to face her in acknowledgement, his body did stiffen up and completely still from where he had been mindlessly carving a piece of wood on the porch steps of the house.

All he had been able to think about for the last four days was her; her and that night that they had shared, her and the way that she felt wrapped around him, her and the way that she made him want her more than anything. Before, he had been hungry for her, but now Daryl thought that he was starving, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all.

He wanted her again. No two ways about it.

But she was making it clear that she didn't want him, and hell, he couldn't blame her for it.

It was hard to miss the shaky breath that escaped her lips as she inched a slight bit closer to him. "I... I wasn't thinking," Beth croaked, her voice unsteady and wavering as she spoke to the back of his head. "I shouldn't have done... Shouldn't have done that." Daryl swallowed. "It wasn't fair to you, doin' what I did. An'... An' I'm jus' _sorry_ , Daryl."

It's silent between the two of them for a few long moments; and then it's clear to him that Beth is turning around to walk away. For now, Daryl still can't bring himself to turn around and look at her - can't because his ears and his cheeks are all fiery red at the thought of what he needs to say to her, can't because the words won't fall from his tongue if he actually has to look at her when he speaks, can't because he doesn't want to actually see how she reacts to what it is that he wants to tell her.

'Cause Daryl knows that he's an asshole, and if Beth walks away - if she rejects him now, even with the plenty of good reasons that she has to do exactly that - Daryl doesn't want to see it with his own eyes. He doesn't want to watch her disappear before him, not again.

"Ain't gotta be sorry, Beth," he says, and now it's her turn to pause in her motions. It's silent again for a few more seconds, and Daryl eventually hands his head as he throws the piece of wood out into the yard before him, the words struggling to move past his tongue. "S'not like you did somethin' to me that I didn't want, girl, christ."

More silence again, but this time, it's followed by the sound of the floorboards of the porch creaking underneath her weight. And then, before he can even check himself, Beth is sat down beside him; not quite touching him, but close enough so that if she wanted to, then she could.

"You wanted it too?" she asks, and her voice is barely even above a whisper as she speaks so tentatively to him.

It's difficult to hear her sound like that - like she's surprised, like she's worried he'll change his mind or change his words and run away - and it makes him feel like an even bigger piece of shit than he did before. Daryl doesn't look up or turn his head towards her has he nods in response - doesn't think that he could look in her eyes, not even if he wanted to - but she's there and she's looking at him, and now she has some sort of understanding of how he feels, and least it's something that she didn't have before.

Something that leaves her sitting comfortably beside him, and something that, eventually, leads her to rest her head against his shoulder.

 

It's easier to be with Beth now.

The two of them don't have much time before everyone else returns home, but Daryl doesn't skip a beat as he kisses his way down the column of her throat, his stubble scratching against her skin. His name escapes from her plump lips in whimpers, and he hurries to hook his arms around her legs. Beth hops up into him so that her knees dangle over his elbows, and he pushes her up the back of the wooden door anything but softly, and Beth's pale legs spread impossibly wider as her light pink skirt hitches up around her waist.

They're in a rush, and she's been teasing him all fucking evening so that he knows for a fact that he won't last, and in a strange sort of way, he is momentarily reminded of their first time together.

But so much is different now.

When Daryl shoves Beth's panties towards one side, he immediately finds that his girl is absolutely dripping for him, and all it takes is for him to brush his knuckles over her lips for her to whimper down his ear and whine for more - please, Daryl, I need you. Beth is trembling beneath him and her head whacks against the back of the door with a loud thud when his thumb ghosts over her swollen clit, but both of them pay little attention to the sound as Daryl works her over.

Something that he's learned over their months living together in the Safe Zone is that Beth is stronger than she looks - much, much stronger - and if she doesn't think they need to stop, then he won't fuss over her about it.

It's her who undoes his belt buckle, but her fingers are nimble and swift and trained to it now, and they don't quiver or shake as she pulls his jeans down his legs using the balls of her feet. His cock falls out of his jeans and probes against her entrance as soon as it can, and Daryl smirks into her mouth when her breath hitches in her throat.

And then he's inside of her; moving fast and hard as he pounds her into the wooden door, causing her head to fall back and forth against it as he moves in and out of her. Words fall from his lips as he teases her clit with two of his fingers, effectively squeezing it - words like _c'mon, Beth_ , and _come for me, girl,_ and _you drive me fuckin' insane_ \- and it has to only be a matter of minutes before she cums around his cock, milking his dick as she screeches out into the empty room.

(He thinks that her bedroom window might be open, but he doesn't give enough of a crap about that to do anything about it.)

It's only moments later that he too comes inside of her, and again, there's no condom and he hasn't pulled out of her, but there are worse things that he can think of than having a baby with Beth.

The sound of the front door of the house opening and then voices filling the hallway has Daryl setting Beth down on the floor, and he makes sure that her panties are on properly and that her hair isn't out of place before he presses a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Okay?" she breathes, her voice still a little shaky as she attempts to compose herself from the after effects of her orgasm, and Daryl nods at her before he opens the door.

"Yeah," he responds, nipping at her ear before he nudges her back out of the bedroom. "Jus' peachy."


End file.
